I'm headed to Little Rock on Thursday and will be sitting in on a panel at the Little Rock Film Festival on Saturday.
Saturday, May 16th at 6:00 p.m. Little Rock Chamber of Commerce One Chamber Plaza, Little Rock, AR 72201 see more details
Also on the panel:
Scott Kirsner, creator of the Cinematech blog, answers questions about the (much-speculated-upon) forthcoming revolution in DIY film distribution. It's inspirational stuff if you're disheartened by the lack of opportunity in traditional distribution right now.
Look, I do think that if you can do what Joss and Radiohead do, which is leverage the power of established media companies and their distribution channels while also doing some DIY experimentation, that’s not a bad thing. But I also believe there is incredible opportunity for total unknowns right now. You have access to the tools to make what you want, inexpensively. And you have access to all these distribution channels – DVD production, CD production, book production, digital downloads – that were really locked up just five or ten years ago. What can you do to overcome the power imbalance? You start by making really remarkable stuff that no one else is making, focus on a niche audience, and then experiment with different ways to grow that small initial audience.
Kirsner just published a book called Fans, Friends, and Followers -- check out a sample on Scott's web site.
There were a number of interesting announcements at Sundance this year, though few of them had to do with big-ticket film acquisitions. (This comes to the surprise of no one.)
In the continuing deterioration of the traditional system of release windows is this plan (also announced at Sundance) from IFC Films and the South by Southwest Film Festival to hold a simultaneous release of Joe Swanberg's latest film, Alexander the Last, at SXSW 2009 and on IFC's "Festival Direct" video-on-demand (VOD) channel.
Four other SXSW ‘09 titles will also screen on-demand via IFC Festival Direct, concurrent with the upcoming festival. IFC also announced the launch of of a new IFC Festival Direct genre label, branded IFC Midnight and unveiled some twenty titles that have been added to the slate for its on-demand platform.
This prompted some rather pointed questions from Sarasota Film Festival programmer Tom Hall. Hall wonders if audiences will bother attending a festival screening of a film that is available via VOD, especially since VOD is the choice that is both the more economical and more convenient.
Can the festival “event” outweigh the incentive of staying home? That answer is easy when the world comes to a place like SXSW to party and take in the live music along with the interactive and film events. But at a smaller, regional festival like mine, I really don’t know what my audience would do.
It's impossible to dismiss Hall's concerns, though they do come from a certain glass-half-empty perspective on the situation. The thought that moviegoers might stay home to watch a film on demand rather than venture out into the night to share the experience with an audience is certainly within the realm of possibility. Who among us hasn't opted to catch the latest Will Smith flick on DVD, when we could watch it on our own couches with the convenience of the pause button and the absence of an audience that seems determined to talk through important bits of dialogue (or conversely, to shush us with righteous indignation when we wittily point out the film's inconsistencies)?
I prefer to think that such Festival Direct flicks will serve as word-of-mouth ambassadors for themselves and for festival films in general. It is equally within the realm of possibility that some of those people who do see Swanberg's latest opus on demand will enjoy it enough to go see it on the big screen at a festival, or encourage their friends to go. Those who don't follow through on that particular film may be turned on to the idea that festivals are where the interesting films can be seen. As with everything else in indie film, the potential audience for film festivals (as compared to their penetration of the populace in general) is infinite. Anything that can be done to spread the word of their merit -- and their existence -- is probably a good thing.
It's lights out for New Yorker Films, the boutique distributor that brought international films and "difficult" cinema to the U.S. for over 40 years.
From the New York Times:
One of the most influential distributors of foreign and independent films, New Yorker has amassed a library of more than 400 titles, including Jean-Luc Godard’s “Breathless” and Claude Lanzmann’s epic Holocaust documentary “Shoah,” said Dan Talbot, who founded the company in 1965.
Mr. Talbot, 82, said in a telephone interview that the company was going out of business because its library was being sold. It had been pledged as collateral on a loan taken out by its former owner, Madstone Films, which bought New Yorker Films in 2002.
Lesson: Even if you sell the rights to your film to someone you trust, those rights can then be resold, traded, used as collateral, and foreclosed upon just like any other property. Think twice before you sign those rights away for more than a few years.
From the IndieWIRE article:
These are ‘difficult’ films, not popular mass-market films,’’ Dan Talbot told the New York Times in the 1987 profile. ‘‘They’re meant for a small, elite audience. And nothing has changed in 20 years; it’s still a very tiny, elite audience. There were other distributors who were bringing in these films, but I would say that our role was to introduce some of the more risky films that on the surface did not seem to have a wide audience. Distribution of that kind is a very financially masochistic business."
Lesson: There are distributors out there who love movies and who will help you get your movie in front of the audiences who want to see it. That doesn't mean that anyone will be getting rich in the process.
Mr. Talbot said he was crushed by the end of the company. “I nurtured this,” he said. “These films are like babies.”
Lesson: Distributors are people too.
Read the indieWIRE article and the NY Times article.
(Via John Merriman.)
Over on the B-Side blog I've written a brief response to an in-depth article from TV By the Numbers about the relative place of iTunes in the world of consumer video consumption. We have a long way to go before traditional network TV is ever really "endangered" by alternate viewing methods. On the other hand, it doesn't take a genius to see the writing on the wall. Who wouldn't prefer to consume video entertainment on their own schedule, wherever they want, on whatever device they like?
Read my response to the original piece here, and find a link to the original essay there.
Oh, and here's a fun YouTube video promoting Joss Whedon's new series Dollhouse, which is used as an example in the original article.
Roger Erik Tinch (art & online director at CineVegas) pens a few thoughts on the future of how we will consume films in the next year and how they'll be delivered to us. Most interesting to me were his thoughts on physical media:
Most recently THE DARK KNIGHT, selling 10 million units, and MAMMA MIA! THE MOVIE, selling 2 million units in it’s first day, have done huge blockbuster sales amidst a grim economic backdrop. The fact that these films exist in HD on iTunes hasn’t slowed down their plastic disc counterparts. Now I’m not saying online distribution won’t succeed, I’m just saying it will succeed, but only in the rental realm. Instead of popping on down to your local Blockbuster you’ll instead power up your Xbox or TiVo and order something while in your pajamas.
While this makes sense from a certain perspective, I have become completely disenchanted with the idea of owning a DVD library. Maybe it's just the fact that this panoply of DVDs overwhelms my smallish living space or that being a new parent has made movie-watching time a rare and precious thing, but I'm looking forward to the day when these shiny plastic discs can be housed completely on a vast (and cheap) hard disk or, better yet, hosted in "the cloud" for quick and easy retrieval on command.
Read Distribution and Consumption in 2009 on the CineVegas Blog.
BTW, that's not Roger in the picture, that's my former college roommate Scott -- but the fact that movies were once stored on laserdiscs bigger than the human head always makes me laugh.
HD for Indies founder Mike Curtis:
I’m not saying it isn’t possible to make a good, worthy, financially successful independent film.
I’m just saying there’s no proven, valid, viable business model where it makes sense for investors to put money into it.
And in this wretched crashing economy, I think the days of the vanity, ego-driven, support-the-arts investor support of indie films are OVER.
My friend wondered what this would mean for moviemaking in the future - would this kill off future generations of talent?
In a way, I kind of hope so. A lot of movies are being made that, frankly, shouldn’t be. We can count on the talented and committed making the effort to get their stories told. Bravo. But probably 80+% of film school grads are going to be moths to the flame - poof - nobody saw that tiny flash of color, weren’t looking, and it is gone forever.
I'm going to pass this one on without comment, except to say that Mike must have had one helluva bad day.
Read Mike's entire rant.
In the previous section of this article (rescued from an earlier draft of Film Festival Secrets the book) we covered what a typical festival year looks like. Now we'll delve into ten benefits of playing the film festival circuit.
1. Distribution. The possibility of finding a distributor by participating in the festival process is real. Festivals are one of the main sources that distributors tap when looking for films to acquire. However, even for filmmakers whose films are outstanding enough to play in the top-tier festivals, finding a distributor -- especially a distributor whose vision for the picture matches yours -- can be a struggle. The good news is that the festival circuit's usefulness in finding distribution isn't limited to the big festivals like Sundance, Toronto, and Cannes. A successful tour of well-established, respected festivals will build critical buzz for your film through audience word of mouth and reviews in the press.
2. Networking. This goes hand in hand with distribution. Though you may not find distribution for your movie as a direct result of playing at a particular event, festivals provide an unparalleled opportunity to make those critical connections that may eventually sell your film. This is also a chance to meet your contemporaries -- some of who may be able to help you in the future. Sometimes even festival staff members will take a shine to particular film and do their best to push it in the right direction. People who work at festivals are often the most well-connected people in the film industry. Why wouldn't you want to know as many of them as possible?
3. Exhibition. You didn't make your film to hide it in a closet -- you wanted it to be seen! Festival audiences contain the most appreciative and knowledgeable viewers out there. Not only do they love independent film enough to show up to the screening of an unknown filmmaker, but some of them will fall in love with your movie and ask you endless questions about it afterwards. It's your big chance to bask in the appreciation for all your hard work.
4. Cash prizes. A lot of festivals offer cash prizes for the best work of the season. Use those well-earned festival checks to make some token payments to your credit cards.
5. Other awards. Even if there's no cash involved, festival awards are a nice way to draw attention to your film. More media coverage is given to award winners and you can draw future festival audiences to your film with some laurel wreaths on your poster. Some awards are better than others, true, but even an award from the Podunk International Film Festival is better than none. And hey, that festival trophy can warm the bench for your future Oscar.
6. Learn something at panels and seminars. Lots of festivals are adding panels to increase the appeal of their events. Sitting in on panels is a great way to add to your filmmaking knowledge, and later on at the party you'll be able to identify the visiting industry reps by sight. Some festivals have full-blown conferences in addition to film screenings; make sure your filmmaker badge gets you into the conference as well.
7. Reviews. Festivals are covered by local and industry press alike -- the amount of coverage is naturally proportional to the size and prestige of the festival, but with the right strategy and persistence you can build a nice portfolio of press clippings. Reviews can make or break a film, but as a filmmaker you definitely want as many reviews as you can get.
8. Parties. It's the nature of the beast. In terms of networking, parties are where the action is at any film festival. Maybe it's the free booze, maybe it's the well-dressed people who never go to screenings but magically materialize at the parties, or maybe it's just the fact that everyone seems more confident when they're shouting to be heard over the music. Whatever it is, the parties are the place to hook up, career-wise and... otherwise. Try not to stay out too late.
9. Cool movies. You're a filmmaker -- you love movies! Film festivals are the place to see the new, the independent, the weird, and those guilty pleasures known as the pre-release studio pictures. As a participating filmmaker, you should be able to see as many as you want for free.
10. Free travel. Not every festival can afford to fly in their participating filmmakers, but you should make sure you apply to a few that do. You've always wanted to see Kentucky, right? Just don't trash the hotel room -- you want to be invited back.
11. Swag. Some festivals put together nice little goody bags (contents usually provided by sponsors) for their VIPs. Yes, participating filmmaker -- you're a VIP now. Feels nice, doesn't it? Maybe you don't even drink tequila but it's nice to get a bag of free stuff anyway.
Later this week I will post part three of this article, which will present the answers to some common filmmaker questions about festivals.
Rather than spend a lot of money on a theatrical release that would almost certainly leave him further in debt, Crawford director David Modigliani and indie distribution company B-Side (my employer) has released the film on Hulu, betting that the exposure of free views on the web (combined with the timing of the upcoming election and the publicity of being the first film ever to debut on Hulu) will drive DVD sales. I'm hoping he's right, because I'll be following a similar model with my book, Film Festival Secrets: you'll be able to download the book as a "try before you buy" PDF version and if you find it useful you can donate directly or purchase the print edition.
More to the point, however, is the fact that Crawford is a very, very good movie. No matter how timely the topic or novel the distribution strategy, a quality film is an inescapable prerequisite to success (unless you're making a movie that involves zombies or vampires, in which a sub-par picture can be part of the fun). Please take some time to watch Crawford on Hulu, and if you like what you see consider buying the DVD for yourself or a friend.
Here's a first: an indie film that plays festivals, gets some great buzz, then premieres on Hulu instead of in theaters. That's exactly what's happening with Crawford, one of the hit docs of this past year's South by Southwest film festival, courtesy of distributor B-Side (my employer).
There's a lot of talk about how indie film distribution will work in the future. In my opinion it really boils down to a simple equation: the more people see your movie, the more people will buy it. (Given that the potential of any indie film to saturate the market like a Hollywood film is practically nil, the idea that an indie film can be "overplayed" is laughable.) Congratulations to director David Modigliani for taking some brave first steps in the new world of progressive distribution.
See the indieWIRE blurb on the Crawford acquisition, and check out the trailer below.
Manohla Dargis in the New York Times:
INDEPENDENCE in the movies is a cri de coeur and an occasionally profitable branding ploy, but mostly it’s a seductive lie. For much of American movie history it has been shorthand for more aesthetically adventurous films, bolder in form, freer in spirit and at times more overtly political than those churned out by the Hollywood studios. Once we were one nation under the movie screen, indivisible, with liberty and Shirley Temple for all, but independent film gave us new ways of looking, or so the story goes.
Read The Revolution Is Dead, Long Live the Revolution.
(Via DIY Filmmaker Sujewa.)
Peter B. Kaufman and Jen Mohan at Intelligent Television put together this report for the Tribeca Institute and there's a lot to be learned, though mostly it's anecdotal evidence of the wildly varying attitudes held by different distributors and other industry types.
Some interesting tidbits:
One distributor told us that in his experience with public media’s P.O.V. and ITVS and cable stations Sundance and IFC there has been “remarkably little connection” between a film’s broadcast premiere and sales in other markets. . . . There may also be an aversion to buying a documentary to see it again—as opposed to a more heart- warming feature film.
I've definitely experienced that last part -- a documentary that was spellbinding, but that I never wanted to see again. There's something to be said for word of mouth in that case, but when making a film like that you have to keep your eye on the fact that your sales market may be outreach and support groups, not individual consumers.
In fact, the nature of film as a communal (and one-time) experience may be one of the great handicaps of the indie film business, since there is no "per-user" model to reinforce compensation as a reflection of actual demand.
“We have some DVDs that have been seen by 10,000 students at a university,” [one] distributor said, and as a consequence there is “great inequity in not having a user-based model” and a close “correlation between price and use.”
Most interesting, however, is the conclusion -- or lack thereof:
The advent of digital technologies and the skyrocketing demand for online video are going to change the nature of independent film and video production, distribution, and funding forever. . . .
That said, the game is still in its early innings yet, and even the most experienced stakeholders are ill-prepared to predict how the future will unfold.
In other words: "No one really knows anything yet."
Read the full report (it's available from Tribca Film Institute as a PDF).
Let us not waste time bemoaning the current sorry state of indie film distribution; blogs and podcasts galore exist to do that. Instead let's take a look at how the rest of the world perceives independent film, and what lessons might be applied to promoting your really indie film at festivals and elsewhere. (Those people are pretty easy to spot. They're the ones not reading indieWIRE and MovieMaker.) While strolling the aisles at Target, my eye was caught by this display (above) in the DVD section of "IFC Indies."
If I made a practice of buying DVDs at Target I might have seen it before now; apparently it's the result of a three-year deal between IFC and Target that started two years ago. When it began, Target had its own night of programming on IFC called "Cinema Red Mondays," but I couldn't find any mention of that on IFC's current web site. But there it is, large as life: a full display of "indie" films recommended to Target by IFC. Check out the pictures at the bottom of this post (click for larger versions) to see some closer shots of the display and for the visual evidence of my completely nutty claims.
Lesson #1 - To the outside world, "indie" is synonymous with "arty." Independent films star all of the same people in studio films, but these movies feature stories either too complicated or depressing for Hollywood to touch. Target's definition of an independent film in this instance is largely academic -- arty, but not too threatening. Notice that in order to keep the shelves stocked with recognizable stars, the catalog goes back ten years or more (The Red Violin was made in 1998).
There are some films here that could be considered "truly" independent, depending on how much you want to torture the phrase (Hannah Takes the Stairs is a notable exception), but for the most part, this is grim confirmation that the indie titles that make it into big box stars are the yuppie-friendly ones with recognizable faces. (Is this starting to sound like an unclever entry in the Stuff White People Like blog?)
Lesson #2 - Don't just find your niche, dominate it. Lookit that -- an entire shelf of Tyler Perry movies. Granted, Perry's first movie had a budget of $5.5 million, so its status as an "indie" film is once again dependent on your personal definition of the term, but the principle applies: if you can speak to a sizable audience and make them love you that much, the big box stores will come find you.
Lesson #3 - Piggyback on the success of something similar. Notice how each shelf positions the movies on it as ideal for people who loved some other movie? That's what you want to do with yours. Figure out who your piggyback film is and practice the phrase "If you liked X, then you should see my movie." Hackneyed? Obvious? Yes, but also effective. Don't run away from comparing your film to another, similar (and more familiar) film unless your film really suffers by comparison -- in which case you might want to think about making a better film.
Lesson #4 - Documentaries should feature grisly death or rock musicians. Preferably both. Rock stars are the name actors of the documentary film department. (Maybe I should call it the doc film ghetto, since it's relegated to the very bottom shelf.) If you can't find a rock star to make your doc about, then make sure it either confirms the viewers' worst fears about the world or features someone being eaten by a bear. For the love of Pete, make sure it isn't funny -- unless you're Michael Moore, and even then the point is debatable.
Lesson #5 - Until you start making movies with million dollar budgets and Zooey Deschanel, you probably shouldn't roam the DVD aisles at Target. Not that there aren't some wonderful movies represented here, but the thought that the world at large views the state of independent film through this particular lens could really drive you crazy.
Good news for indie filmmakers - YouTube is opening its doors to long-form independent films. While it's not quite a free-for-all yet, it does bode well for those filmmakers who want to promote their films by giving them away as streaming video. As discussed previously, making your film readily available to view for free can actually increase your sales. YouTube also plans to sell advertising overlaid on the films, the revenues from which would be split with the filmmaker.
From the Silicon Alley Insider:
YouTube (GOOG) added some new details Wednesday night on its plan to make indie film and other long-form video part of the menu. Namely, a dedicated area within YouTube called "The Screening Room" that will host indie film, and offer tools to help producers build an audience and generate revenue.
YouTube will add four new indie films every two weeks--including some that have appeared in film festivals and others that have never been seen before.
Details on how YouTube plans to make money, or allow famously cash-strapped indie producers to make money, are thin. A press release said "The Screening Room" will include a "Buy Now" button allowing filmmakers to link to Web sites that sell DVDs and digital downloads of their films, as well as what it calls a "high quality" player to watch on the Web.
A couple of weeks ago Jonathan Marlow posted a piece to the GreenCine Daily blog that created a minor stir in the festival world. It's an essay called "They Didn't Build Their Sales Model For You" that raises a lot of questions about the festival circuit, the collective place of filmmakers within it, and what happens after a film has made its festival run.
Since the beginning of the independent "common era" (circa 1989), the traditional Grail-quest of acquisition-derived-from-festival-screenings was a relative uncertainty. Now, nearly 30 years later, such good fortunes are approaching the level of impossibility.
Marlow leaves it to others to answer the majority of questions he asks, but the piece echoes the examples and pointed questions that often come up when filmmakers talk amongst themselves about distribution of and compensation for their work. I don't have easy answers for Marlow or anyone else, but I let's take a minute to explore some of the notions expressed and implied by his piece.
Since I started writing this reaction there have been a lot of responses, most notably here and here, and a follow-up post from Marlow himself. It's a hot topic to say the least. I expect Marlow himself already has a clear understanding of everything I'm about to cover, but so many of the filmmakers and moviegoers I encounter at such festivals do not that I feel some discussion is warranted.
Notion #1 - The festival circuit is an "ersatz" distribution system. "Informal" or "unintentional" might have been better adjectives here, but the meaning is taken as intended. As art house theaters close or reduce their independent offerings, the festival circuit is evolving into the only growing form of theatrical exhibition left for indie filmmakers. (Over at B-Side we're working on new forms of audience-driven "theatrical" screenings, but programs like these are in their infancy.) That doesn't make the festival circuit a distribution method, however, because (as others have pointed out previously) the festival circuit is not a centrally-organized network with the stated purpose of delivering films to audiences and compensating the filmmakers for their work.
Festivals cull through the mass of indie flicks available and put them on large screens in front of willing moviegoers, true, but (with a few exceptions) they do so as non-profit arts organizations. This is what allows festivals to select movies on relatively egalitarian and merit-based criteria, though festival programmers certainly feel the need to pack houses (more on this later). The good news for filmmakers is that festivals take more risks and display a wider range of movies than any other (non-Internet) exhibitor. If anyone in this wide world is going to show your movie, it's going to be a film festival.
Now for the bad news.
Notion #2 - The money collected by festivals in the form of submission fees, sponsorships, and ticket sales doesn't find its way back to the exhibiting filmmakers. This one is true -- filmmakers don't see a dime from these screenings, at least not directly from the festivals. There are plenty of filmmakers who think that festivals should cut them in for a piece of the action, and their rally cry is usually something along the lines of "without the films the festivals wouldn't exist." The flaw in this particular logic is that it assumes the festival staffers are lining their pockets at the expense of filmmakers. It's an easy mistake to make -- certainly the free-flowing liquor, high-end hotel rooms, and red carpet screenings project an image of glamour and success that the festival would like you to believe. That's the image they sell to the audience to entice them to show up. Pierce that thin veil of glitz, however, and you're likely to find a young, underpaid staff hunkered down in tiny offices, holding their festival together from year to year with the help of volunteers and masking tape. The vast majority of film festivals survive through a combination of government grants, sponsorship dollars, ticket sales, and of course the despised submission fees. (These fees are a much smaller portion of overall festival revenue than you might expect, which is why some fests dispense with them. Most of the time fees exist as a barrier to entry, keeping every schlub with a camcorder from submitting his home movies.)
So where's the money going? Mostly towards operational costs, including those meager staff salaries and office rent, but also towards theater and equipment rentals, hotel and airfare for filmmakers and other guests, printing, ground transportation -- the list goes on. Even for small fests the operating expenses can range into the hundreds of thousands of dollars -- larger festivals require millions per year to keep going. "The cost for projection equipment and venue rental alone can eat through our ticket sales for any given screening," Austin Film Festival programmer Kelly Williams told me recently. "On a good night, all expenses considered, we break even."
The notion that festivals could somehow share the revenue from ticket sales isn't completely without merit but it's a thorny problem. What if a festival increased its per-ticket price by a few dollars and promised to pass that "surplus" on to the filmmaker? The accounting would be nightmarish (and likely impossible in the case of short film programs), but the real question is: would filmmakers be incented to work even harder to fill their screenings, knowing that they stand to make a few hundred bucks on the deal? I have a hunch that the results would be mixed at best. Some filmmakers would kick ass to really make it work, others would operate about the same as they do now, and still others would find the rewards insufficient. After all, even with a medium-sized theater of 200 seats, you're only talking about making back the cost of a single plane ticket -- and that's if you pack the house.
I can tell you with near certainty that overall happiness at film festivals wouldn't be increased by this scheme. At any given festival there are always a tiny but vocal minority of filmmakers unhappy about the way they or their films are being treated. Introducing the almighty dollar into the equation could only make this situation more treacherous. Suddenly a smaller venue represents not just less prestige but also fewer seats to potentially sell. A less-than-desirable screening time or a perceived smaller share of the festival's marketing efforts would suddenly mean lost revenue in addition to smaller crowds. Festival programmers would be under pressure to take fewer risks, especially given that audiences likely wouldn't respond well to higher ticket prices. Given that the festival system works reasonably well now without the promise of remuneration, it's unlikely that even the most forward-thinking of fests would introduce such unwelcome complications and the potentially explosive situations that could result.
Some festivals do pay flat screening fees, though more often to the distributors of popular films that have already been acquired than directly to independent filmmakers. There is an entire class of festival that currently pays for a large portion of the feature films they screen: the gay & lesbian (aka the "GLIFFs" or GLBT) festivals. Demand for GLBT-interest films is high enough, and the material scarce enough, that most quality films in the category get snapped up by distributors quickly. Those distributors know that the target market isn't large enough to support a traditional theatrical run, but they can generally count on the festivals to pay a fee for the right to screen a popular festival film.
Such festivals are caught in a tough spot between what they can afford and what their audiences expect to see from other GLBT festivals. Lisa Kaselak, programming director for the Austin Gay & Lesbian Film Festival, admits that paying such fees makes her job more difficult, but as a working filmmaker she has seen the benefits of the system as well. "[Gay and lesbian] festivals across the U.S. are really struggling to pay the screening fees we have to pay. The margins are razor-thin and we often lose money on screenings. I can't blame distributors though, because they provide a valuable service." Don't expect this model to creep into the mainstream fests, however. Mainstream fests pay far fewer screening fees and some refuse to pay them at all. With a larger pool of fee-free films to choose from, they can well afford to do so.
With the notion that festivals are a potential source of revenue at least partially laid to rest, let's turn our attention to another implication of Marlow's essay that turns out not to be true:
Notion #3: There's money to be made in theatrical distribution. Filmmakers get starry-eyed at the thought of their flims playing metroplexes around the world, but when all is said and done even the major studios rarely make their money back after prints and advertising. Theatrical runs these days are basically promotional campaigns to sell DVD copies. There is a direct correlation between the number of people who see a film in the theaters and the eventual sales success of a film on DVD, but the revenue from the theatrical run itself is almost always negligible. (Harry Potter flicks and Spider-Man sequels aside.)
What does it mean for filmmakers? Well, if the festival circuit is the only "theatrical run" your film is likely to get, you'd better make the most of it. Gear up the marketing machine and pack those screenings, because the more people who see your film now, the more people who will buy it on DVD later. A more interesting idea buried in here is the thought that there is a direct correlation between the number of people who see your film (under any circumstances) and the number of people who will eventually buy it. This sounds obvious and simple, but some filmmakers behave as if exactly the opposite were true. They fret about piracy (you should be so lucky!), dither about putting their films online, and withhold screeners as if the discs were made of gold. If your film is that good viewers will pay for it -- but they have to know about it first. Try viewing every "free" screening of your film not as a sale you lost but as a marketing opportunity you gained.
I've written more about this elsewhere and expect to do so again, but it's a concept filmmakers need to wrap their heads around: hiding your light (or film) under a bushel for fear of "overplaying" it or tapping out a limited audience is old-school thinking.
Notion #4: Most films that play festivals deserve wider audiences than they get after their festival run is over. This notion follows on the idea that if a film plays a festival it must be a good film. Anyone who has been to a few film festivals can tell you that simply isn't true -- there are plenty of sub-par films playing festivals, especially those whose directors rely solely on a few hundred submissions to program their entire event. You can't really fault festivals for playing the best from a limited pool of submissions, but it doesn't make them good films and it certainly doesn't make them candidates for widespread distribution. As a filmmaker, you need to be prepared to recognize that even though you made a movie and even though it played the festival circuit, it might not be good enough ever to pay for itself.
Even technically "good" films can fail to find distribution after their festival runs. In casual conversation at festivals you occasionally hear the phrase "I'd even recommend that film to my mom." It's a telling phrase: it implies that the majority of movies one sees at festivals aren't suitable for mom, and poor mom is the metaphorical stand-in for the mainstream moviegoing populace. There are those distributors whose mission is to support indie filmmakers, but reality often intrudes: selling a movie that people don't already know they want to see is hard, expensive work. Wouldn't it just be easier to sell the movies you'd recommend to your mom? I believe that there is a layer of indie films in between the top 5% that get distribution and the 90% of indie films that are mostly unwatchable. But there again, you're only talking about a thin slice of movies that get overlooked or need extra help to find the right audience. The vast majority of even festival-selected films -- quite likely yours included -- aren't going to get picked up.
Discouraging? Yes, but not quite cause for despair. Since the dawn of filmmaking, indie film has relied on an influx of cash from outside the system to survive. The filmmakers who eventually make it are the persistent ones. They continue to find sources for that outside cash (investors or day jobs or medical experiments) and continue to make movies until they create the picture that everyone wants to recommend to their mom. And who knows? Once you've done that, maybe you'll be able to sell your back catalog.
Just don't ask for a cut of the festival receipts.
Over on my film & tech blog, Blue Glow, I posted my first impressions of the Netflix Roku box, which allows you to watch movies as streaming video directly to your television. Boxes like these will play a large part in how we watch movies in the coming years. Indie filmmakers would do well to pay attention to which ones are the most popular and how the rights-holders get paid. Given that only 10% of Netflix's DVD catalog are available on the Roku box, there's plenty of room for indies to be seen alongside the other content -- and competing with old episodes of Kojak should be somewhat easier than trying to be discovered opposite the latest Pixar release.
As promised, a quick recap of the panel I sat on at the Ann Arbor Film Festival a couple of weeks ago, called "Multiplying Eyes: Film Distribution."
Panelists were myself, moderator Debra Miller (of Outfest & AFI), Bob Alexander of IndiePix, Mitch Levine of The Film Festival Group, and filmmaker Brooke Keesling.
The panel ostensibly concerned distribution but ranged to any number of topics related to making a living as an independent filmmaker. Below are some of threads of the conversation based on my notes and fuzzy memory. A lot of these ideas came up during the panel but I've also included my thoughts since then.
• Mitch Levine introduced his 3 essential questions as a starting point for the distribution of any film:
» What are your goals for the film? These should be as concrete and actionable as possible -- do you want your film shown on TV? How important is theatrical exhibition? Do you want to make all of your production money back, or is it enough to get the film "out there?" How long are you willing to wait before you move on to other forms of distribution? Don't close the door to opportunities you didn't think of, but you should definitely think about what you want.
» Who is your audience? Beyond just "moviegoers," think about specific segments of the populace who appear in or are otherwise represented by your film. Does the film appeal to senior citizens? 20-something skateboarders? Ice fishermen? Identify particular interests, hobbies, occupations, and pasttimes that appear in your movie.
» How do you reach that audience? Not just "by email," but what specific groups already exist to reach those people? Those groups have existing mailing lists, often segmented by geographical location, that can help you fill your festival screenings and sell your film. Are there current movements in popular culture related to your film or upon which you can capitalize? Exploit them.
• Brooke Keesling's Boobie Girl went to 80+ film festivals, and she went to as many of those film festivals as she could. Meeting so many different people helped her secure not only more festival appearances but also distribution for the film itself. Brooke emphasized the importance of keeping a short short - under 12 minutes if possible.
• My main launching pad for conversation in this panel was a pair of concepts I encountered recently on the Technium, one of Kevin Kelly's blogs. The first is the concept of the concept of 1000 true fans -- that an independent artist could be supported for life if he captures the true fandom of 1000 people. A "true fan" is defined as a person who loves your work so much that he's willing to spend about $100 a year on just about anything you put out there. Read the whole thing, it's a compelling and thoughtful blueprint for the future of independent artists.
• The second concept is the idea that internet is a giant copy machine, and that trying to hold back anything that can be easily copied is essentially a losing proposition, especially if there's a large demand for it. Hence the decline of the music industry and (one guesses) the film industry, because their business models traditionally depended on selling things that couldn't be easily copied. This area is a huge tangle of laws and conflicting desires that I won't get into here -- read Better Than Free instead. Kelly argues that selling copies on the merit of simply having a copy is a business model that will diminish (if not evaporate altogether) -- rather, adding value around the copyable object by selling things that can't be copied (tangible and otherwise) is the winning move.
Kelly presents his ideas in a way that can be applied to many disciplines, but it is especially relevant to filmmakers, in particular those who specialize in shorts. (The ideas will be more applicable to features when they can be copied, transferred, and consumed in a way more convenient than is currently possible.) It's a fairly safe bet that your short film will be co-opted by YouTube or similar at some point in its life, so you're better off including YouTube in your plan instead of policing all the different video sites.
The ways that these two concepts can be applied to independent filmmaking are manifold and I'll continue to write about them. For now though, I'll simply point out two examples of filmmakers who have applied these principles to their work and seem to be doing fairly well at it:
Lone Sausage/Beyond Grandpa - the folks behind the amazing "Doctor Tran" series of films. The concept is simple but the execution is so amazing that true fans are created in mere minutes. In Doctor Tran, Breehn Burns and Jason Johnson have created a beloved character, but the real star of these short films is their warped sense of humor -- that's what people keep coming back for. So long as they continue to churn out depraved animated material (and it's been a while since the last short, though I hear another one is on the way), these guys could probably sell t-shirts and compilation DVDs until the end of time.
Bitter Films - Don Hertzfeldt may animate his films the old fashioned way, but he makes good use of the internet to connect to his fans and to offer them incentive to buy his shorts on DVD. And when it comes to selling things that can't be copied, Bitter Films is a great example: when the collected works "Bitter Films Volume 1" came out, Don included goodies (like strips of film cut from the 16mm prints and hand-drawn sticky notes) with the DVDs of those folks who pre-ordered. Not only are the shorts brilliant, but the marketing and delivery of the work (the DVDs are crammed with extras, etc) is top-notch.
• Some of the questions that came up in the panel were pretty basic. It's obvious that there's a hunger for the simple facts about film distribution -- how it works, what a "standard" deal looks like, etc. This is very likely because there don't seem to be any good, free resources about film distribution out there on the web. Those resources that exist offer sketchy, imprecise information up front, and often hide the real information behind a wall of paid membership or in the pages of a book or ebook you have to pay for.
This is not to say that information about film distribution and ideas about how to accomplish it for your film aren't valuable things for which one could logically expect to pay. However, I find it interesting that you can find reasonably good information about most other aspects of filmmaking for free. This makes me think that 1) film distribution is a murky and unpredictable subject about which few solid "facts" are known and 2) when money enters the picture, the knowledgeable are reluctant to give up information without compensation.
The facts of film distribution aren't that difficult to understand but are beyond the scope of this blog entry -- I promise I'll write something to illuminate the subject soon, and hopefully a bit more research into the subject will reveal some good web resources on the subject too. (Feel free to email me good sites if you know of them.)
• Don't be intimidated by the festival "rules." One of the better takeaways from the conversation was a reminder of the fact that festivals are desperate for great films -- if you have a real winner on your hands (and so very few filmmakers really, really do), a festival will bend the rules for you, especially if you're polite. Festivals put their submission rules into place for a reason, but a quality film will always trump a rule. The trick comes in convincing the festival staff that you have a really great film.
• Take advantage of whatever prizes you get for your film -- use it as leverage with distributors and other festivals. Do it quickly and don't be embarrassed by an award from a smaller festival.
• Use the low budget of your film as a selling point, not something to hide. Don't run down your own film by saying it was "only" made for $800, that you "only" had non-professional actors, etc. etc.
That's the extent of my notes and after-panel thoughts; thanks to my fellow panel members for their expertise, to those who attended (standing room only!) and to the Ann Arbor Film Festival for putting me on a panel and for creating an amazing event. I wish I'd had more time to spend there.
The panel went remarkably well, and I'll do a better writeup when it's not 3 in the morning. The room was packed, somewhere between 75-100 people in a standing-room only crowd, about a third of whom identified themselves as filmmakers.
If you're visiting the blog based on your attendance at the fest, the relevant links are listed below (in the entry just prior to this one) as promised. I'll have some links to the other panelists' work and some other resources in the next few days once I return to Austin.
Ann Arbor's a great town and the festival is amazing. I sleep now.
I'm going to refer to some particular links during today's panel, so I thought I'd link to them here so when panel attendees want to read about them there's an easy way to find them. So here they are:
1000 True Fans (Kevin Kelly)
Better Than Free (Kevin Kelly)
I'm sure there will be more links as I think of them but these are the ones I plan on referencing now. Soon I will also provide some context for those who won't be able to make the panel.
The importance of good press to a film's distribution chances cannot be understated. While I try not to dwell too much on distribution issues on this blog, sometimes a matter of distribution cannot be ignored. This is just the latest in a string of articles about the decline of traditional film criticism and what it means for indies and for cinema in general.
An increasing number of films aren't getting reviewed in key U.S. outlets, damaging their slim chances at the boxoffice. If the trend continues, it could even make it more difficult for smaller indie films to secure a release.
Reviews from established media outlets are the only reason many low-budget films make it to theaters today, because they trigger word-of-mouth and DVD-ready quotes vital to the indies' true profit source: home video.
...
...perhaps Darwinian principles will win out, and the indie world will have to learn how to live without some of the print attention it's relied on in the past. "The only complaints we've gotten [on not running some reviews] are from publicists and distributors," says the Post's Lumenick. "Not a single one from readers."
Read These days, some indies just can't read all about it.
See also the Hartford Courant piece The Decline Of The Critic, in which Matt Eagan examines the rapid fade of the local newspaper critic.
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